


once she had loved the prince with all her heart.

by moonblossoms



Series: the kingslayer and the dragon's whore [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, Angst, F/M, Kidnapping, Lyanna Stark Lives, Rhaegar is an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 04:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15065606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonblossoms/pseuds/moonblossoms
Summary: lyanna's melancholy while in the tower of joy. [a sort of prequel to 'the kingslayer and the dragon's whore]





	once she had loved the prince with all her heart.

Once Lyanna had loved the prince with all her heart. A silver-haired prince who sang a song of a she-wolf confined to a cage disguised as a castle, with invisible shackles weighing her down. A song so sad because it was soon to be her bitter reality that it made her sniffle and cry like a foolish girl. The same prince who kept the secret of the knight of the laughing tree and listened to her ramble on about warrior queens, humoured her childish dreams of being like those queens. How one often tends to humour a child's fanciful ideas. He had told her he admired her spirit, her wilfulness and no one had truly ever appreciated that at least not without scolding her for not behaving like a lady ought to.

But this was the same prince that kept her confined to a tower so far from her home and her family. She had truly felt like a damsel in distress being held captive by a monstrous dragon in that tower, though she stupidly had thought they were two lovers escaping to their tower of joy. This was meant to be her key to freedom but she had only really escaped one cage and found herself in an even smaller one.

The tower of joy had been a cruel jape at her expense it seemed. For no joy was found in the brick walls of the room she shared with her prince and any that had existed soon turned to dust and was blown away into the desert. The air was so hot there she felt that she might suffocate or melt away like snow. Something of the north only suffered in the south. Suffered at the hands of a southern prince.

The same prince she had once loved soon began to care not for what she had to say, seemingly fixated on her body and what was between her legs. He had been so gentle the first night they had lain together and after he told her of a dragon with three heads. Or three dragon riders. She can barely remember his feverish rambling as he held her, encaged in his arms. He was perhaps just like her, still a child with his head full of fanciful stories.

She had even thought for some time that she was one of these dragon riders he talked about. Nothing had pleased her more, for then she would be a warrior queen quite like Visenya Targaryen who had rode her dragon Vhagar into countless battles, always triumphant. Lyanna exulted with delight at the thought of having her own Vhagar though she would name her dragon something even more powerful. Something northern. She had only ever dreamt of being a warrior, who was so free like the winds.

Rhaegar had laughed when she asked him if she would ride a dragon, making her flush with annoyance. Was she nothing more than a fool to him. He told her that his children with Princess Elia were the first two heads and that together they would make the third. Aegon, Rhaenys and Visenya. Lyanna quickly realised that she had blindly followed him in hopes of her freedom, but he simply only needed her to give him his Visenya.

That night as he slept peacefully beside her, she crawled from the bed and sat on the windowsill, gazing up at the sky. She begged the gods for forgiveness for she knew she had been so foolish and even selfish. She wondered if princess Elia would be able to forgive her for stealing away with Rhaegar. She wondered if the princess, who had only smiled sadly when Lyanna had been crowned queen of love and beauty, secretly hated her. Lyanna would not blame her if she did. Her tiny sobs were her lullaby that night as she fell asleep, still begging for forgiveness.

Her lovely prince was the same prince who forced himself between her legs and inside of her, only hours after she had learned of her brother and father's demise. She sobbed and fought him, crying out for Brandon and her father to come and save her from this damned tower. Rhaegar had tried to quell her rage with sweet words and kisses. She did not want them. She wanted her family back. Wanted to be back in Winterfell with Benjen, Ned, Brandon, Old Nan, her father and even that great oaf Robert.

Each time her prince made love to her, she cursed him in her mind. _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. If my Brandon were alive he'd kill you with his own bare hands_. But Brandon was dead, he had strangled himself trying to save their father who had been consumed by wildfire. Every waking moment she was reminded of this. When she ate, bathed, read, when Rhaegar fucked her and when she lay awake with a sorrow slowly drowning her. A cruel voice in her head reminded her that it was all her fault.

Lyanna had loved her prince once but not when he bid her farewell and rode off to battle in a war they had started. _I'll come back for you my lady. I'll come back a king and you'll be my queen and our Visenya will be princess_. He tenderly touched her swelling stomach and she wanted to scream at him to not touch her child. Her Brandon or her Rickard. But not Visenya. He had chosen that name, not her. _I don't care. I'll pray to the Old Gods for Robert's victory. I hope he smites you down for all you've done_. Rhaegar frowned disapprovingly as if she were a child throwing a tantrum. She was a child. Still just a girl. A stupid little girl. When he told her that he loved her she all but snarled that she hated him. But she had loved her Brandon and her father.

When Ned arrived, she had thought that she was going to die. The pain she was in was unbearable and she cried for him, for Brandon, for Benjen and her father. But not for Rhaegar. Ned stumbled into the room, sweaty and bloody as she lay in a similar state. Cradling a babe in her arms. He had killed Ser Gerold, the only Kingsguard ordered to stay and guard her like the prisoner she was. Ned truly was her knight in shining armour, she had thought once that Rhaegar was but she couldn't have been more wrong.

Rhaegar had won the war, killed Robert and the Lannister boy, Ser Jaime had killed the king he was sworn to serve. Lyanna wished she could thank Jaime Lannister for killing King Aerys for all he'd done to her family. _He'll want you up South, sweet Lya. To be his queen and to have his son with him_. Lyanna would not have that, wouldn't allow Rhaegar to be near her son or her ever again. _He wanted a daughter. You must hide him for me, say he is your own son. Keep him safe. He's Jon. Promise me you will, Ned?_

Ned obliged, never one to refuse his sister anything. Especially not this. They rode to Winterfell and Ned presented Catelyn with his bastard son Jon Snow. The poor Tully girl looked so humiliated and though Lyanna truly felt bad for her, Jon's safety was far more important to her than Catelyn's pride. Perhaps one day, Lyanna could tell her good-sister the truth but not yet, for it was far too dangerous and Lyanna would rather die than have her little Jon in the clutches of Rhaegar.

She hated Rhaegar even more when he quite regretfully set her aside once she explained that the babe had perished in the birthing bed and once his council begged him to cast this child aside. He had not wanted to, she could see it in the way his gaze lingered on her before he agreed. She had hoped her sweet prince would resurface then, steal her away to unexplored lands on a large dragon. But it seemed that Rhaegar was a coward, he cast her aside for the good of the realm. The same realm that bled for his mistakes.

Lyanna had hoped and so foolishly thought that she would be free to go home to Winterfell, but Rhaegar would not allow it. She had first worried that he would take her as his mistress and no doubt he was planning to do just that. But he was advised against it, as not to insult the north and house Stark anymore. He sold her off instead, sold her to another disgraced soul. No man would want her now, a soiled and selfish girl. But the kingslayer would have her, if Lord Tywin wanted his heir back with his head still attached to his body.

Two scorned and hated people paired off in matrimony. It was a cruel jape at both her and Jaime Lannister. At both of their families too. Neither of them wanted this, but if Jaime wanted to keep his head he would accept the Dragon's whore graciously and they said that Lyanna should be grateful that any man would want her. No man did of course, at least not her husband to be. The king did, the man that once been her sweet prince would always want her.

Once she had wanted him too or perhaps she had only wanted the freedom that he offered her. For once Lyanna had loved the prince with all her heart because once Lyanna had been naught more than a fool.


End file.
